


Overcomplicated

by plsnskanks (orphan_account)



Category: Eddsworld - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, M/M, feelies get realies, sorry i held onto this for like a month lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-06
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2019-07-27 08:16:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16215092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/plsnskanks
Summary: Tord likes to shoot himself in the foot





	Overcomplicated

“Look,” Tord says, sly grin on his face as he stares down the flushed man in front of him. “I know you want to do it, I want to do it, let’s do it.”

Matt looks at him with the sort of arrogant disdain of seeing something especially loathsome laying in the middle of his path, “Don’t you have some sort of ongoing thing with Tom?”

Tord smiles as if the question is stupidly misplaced. Trifling. Really only a child would ask that sort of thing.

“We are about as in a well defined and committed relationship as Schrodinger’s cat.”

“Wha?” Matt says momentarily caught off guard by the cryptic remark.

“Science joke.”

Matt looks him over with an appraising glance. Tord is well muscled, only really recently so. He has a cute smile and the way he ties his hair back into a tight little ponytail gives him a sort of rugged mechanic look. If Matt didn’t know him and saw him on the street his head would certainly turn.

But unfortunately, he does know him.

The issue with Tord was never his looks. Matt rubs his face. He can feel the low thrum of his groin telling him he indeed does want to have sex. He would like to lay down and be kissed silly and laugh and maybe let out a joke or two, all this after a nice dinner.

But Tord isn’t really nice dinner date then slow romance kind of dude. And Edd and him stopped being able to have an off again on again type deal when Eduardo finally manned up enough to buy Edd a coke and ask him out.

Matt, for all his conceit, has some dull sense of self preservation, and currently, it is telling him to turn around, walk out, and go jack off somewhere where his feelings aren’t in massive jeopardy of being put through a dryer full of cement bricks.

Which was a pretty adequate description of how Tord handled not only his love life, but other’s. Oh yeah. He had seen the splash damage of Tord’s effect well present in Tom’s attempts to make it out of the vacuous zone that was trying to date other people while Tord had his eye on him.

So, long story short, the idea is that Matt’s gut is telling him no. Hard no. 

Matt’s feelings however, tell him to play the odds, this will be fun. What’s the harm? The issue with logic battling against emotion is that its about as fair as a fight between a butter knife and a chainsaw.

Then he remembers that Tord’s whole deal is that he doesn’t do fun or lighthearted. He did the whole “I am the alpha and you are my great conquest, love, prize for all eternity.”

And then got bored a week later, completely done with not only his own emotions but those of everyone around him, effectively walling himself off to a melodramatic pity party for the umpteenth time like a teenage girl. Music and everything.

It was to the point where Edd just ended up pulling a vanishing act whenever he sense unrest at Tord’s behest.

“Why me, again? Why not go do your little walk into my parlor routine with Tom?” Matt said bitterly. “I was just going to go ask Mark-.”

As much as he hated the guy, Mark didn’t kiss and tell or rather kiss and projectile vomit the contents of his love life like Tord did.

“Fine go ask Mark, I just figured you might want to change things up this one time,” Tord said, completely dodging answering the Tom question.

“You know what? Fine,” Matt said. He could feel the lead weight of his body compounding every second they stood in the hallway and at this point he was just making a decision to make one over making the right one.

Because that’s the way to do it. When did that line of thinking ever go wrong?

“My room, your room?” Tord asks. 

“You’d prefer yours, trust me,” Matt said. He had remembered Tord’s last comments on his interior decorating well enough that it was an easy choice.

Tord pushes open his door and Matt scoots inside as he closes it.

“So again, what is the deal with Tom?” Matt presses because if he is going to give up this much of his self-respect in one go, he would at least like some good gossip as a trade off.

“He’s got someone else in mind at the moment, alright?” Tord said, looking frustrated, not necessarily with Matt, but with the whole situation in general.

“And that someone is?” Matt prodded.

“I don’t know,” Tord says. ‘If I did I would be disrupting’, it goes unspoken. Its Tord’s natural law.

Fine, that is fine.

“Enough about that,” Tord says, and he starts walking toward Matt in a way he would like to deign “sexy” but really just comes across as predatory. He backs Matt up until the edge of his bed where Matt promptly loses his balance and lands on his arse looking up at Tord.

“How do you want to do this?” 

Matt shrugs. He would like to say slowly, gently, with tender caresses. But asking the figurative bull in the china shop of sex seems like a moot point.

“Just tell me I’m pretty and do what you want,” is what comes out of Matt’s mouth. And that’s the starting signal to Tord being, well, himself.

Matt finds himself being inundated with bruising kisses that are sure to leave his lips swollen and tender. He finds nails being raked along soft, previously unmarred skin. He wants to wince, but just decides to lay back and relax further into the onslaught. It may not be the exact attention he wants but he didn’t plan things out well enough to be picky at this stage. Tord grinds up on him and his reservations about the way things are going fall away as he finds his groin getting some much needed attention.

Tord is muttering something in his ear that Matt is sure is supposed to be very arousing but he finds himself tuning it out. There is something in Tord’s voice, some lack of heat or force or something. Incredibly, despite all the displays of dominance and the biting and marking, it feels like Tord’s backing down.

And that’s frustrating. His body is reacting to any attention it gets right now, no matter how mediocre, but Matt himself is missing the extra oomph, the spark that he gets from a partner that is actually mentally there with him.

“You can do it harder,” Matt says, as Tord looks at him in surprise. He was grinding himself into Matt’s crotch and gripping him loosely at the elbows as he did so.

It is maybe a couple more minutes of this before Tord well. He does something.

Matt cocks an eyebrow as he feels the wet splatter of something on his stomach.

“You didn’t,” He says. He definitely did. Tord doesn’t respond and Matt finds himself hard, frustrated, and wanting sex the way dying men want water in the desert but he is not down for Tord to halfassedly push rope until he has to fake an orgasm out of pity.

“Thanks,” Matt says. He would love to deal a couple insults on his way out and express his feelings, but judging from the fact Tom and Tord’s relationship is based on that entire dynamic, he doesn’t want to risk rewarding him. Instead he just takes Tord’s shirt, wipes himself off and throws it down softly before standing up.

“Wait, Matt-,” Tord starts and yeah Matt looks back to see genuine … remorse? Pity? Hell if he knows.

“No don’t stand on my account, I’ll just go jack off in the tub,” Matt says, smiling benignly as he internally seethes. Then Tord grabs at him. Matt really doesn’t get what universal wire is crossed in seemingly every alpha’s brain to make them think they can grab at him but he does know it infuriates him. He rounds on Tord.

“I don’t want to wait for you to get yourself together just so you can accidently say Tom’s name when you are about to come.”

And there he is, losing face because of course he is. The casual disrespect with which Tord treated everyone, especially himself, got to Matt after a while. He was like acid, eating at basic standards until they were a puddle of mush on the floor along with everyone else’s self esteem.

A stunned look creeps across Tord’s face as his grip loosens and Matt takes advantage of the opportunity to make himself scarce.

They don’t talk for about a day and a half.

During that time Tom comes home. Tom and Tord have a discussion he can hear dimly through the walls but honestly? Matt doesn’t care enough to try and pry. He only finds himself faintly surprised that the voices don’t come up above a normal speaking tone, and then within an hour peter off into the quiet of everyone doing their own thing.

He mostly just tries to focus on something other than the raw heat of his stomach and the cramps and how appealing heading over to say hello to Mark seems right now. He finds himself in and out of sleep and then finally down for the entire afternoon.

When he wakes up it is to serious cramps in his lower abdomen.

Matt is creeping out of his room because prestages are over and he really doesn’t want to show up at Mark’s door like this but at this point it’s a must. He just doesn’t want to run into Tord on the way-.

“Really? As soon as you open your door I can smell it,” Tord says from somewhere down the dark hallway. Matt isn’t doing so well sight wise, frankly, things are a bit fuzzy and murky, even without the affects of his heat. Maybe he needs to invest in glasses

“Not in the mood particularly, Tord,” Matt says, trying to keep his voice light as he feels his step faulter. Ah shit. Maybe he should just swallow the whole ego thing and ask Mark to come over.

“Hey,” Tord is in front of him suddenly and Matt startles back nearly falling. Tord grasps his wrist, much more gently than the last time he grabbed at him, which isn’t saying much, but still. He steadies Matt and leaves a hand on his shoulder.

Tord closes his eyes, “Look, I like you.”

Matt closes his eyes in sheer frustration and he can feel his mask of polite disdain slipping into the much uglier mask of need and vulnerability and shame. And he really doesn’t want to let that slip in front of Tord because Tord just sours everything. He picks and picks at everyone else’s damage until it scars.

And the last thing Matt needs is more scars on his pretty, pretty face.

“Tord, I am sure if you put your dick in me right now in about five minutes, I’d like you too,” Matt said, allowing himself to lean on the wall for support as a wash of dizziness hits him.

“No, I like you, seriously,” Tord said and Matt kind of wishes he was seeing straight enough to see Tord’s expression because he is sure it would be intriguing.

“Look just because Tom-,” Matt begins.

Tord raises a hand to cut him off, “It isn’t about Tom and choosing you because I can’t have him.” 

Yeah, even in this state, Matt still has the energy to be a bit surprised.

“Oh really?” 

“Look, I was a dick the day before yesterday. Tom and I had a chat about sorting out emotions. I am not going to be metaphorically dragging him into the bed with you.”

Matt sits back, letting his head tilt up a little. Something about the strain of the act helps him focus himself a little better.

“Take me on a date,” Matt says.

“What, now?” Tord says confused. For all the time he spent around omegas, he could not follow their train of thought to save his life, especially during heat. Slow learner, apparently.

“No, not now,” Matt snaps, putting his hands to his hips. “After. And do it slowly, I am not Tom, I am not a rag doll. I like romance, I like finesse.”

Tord takes a moment to look at Matt. He feels kind of bad to see the marks from the days before, big ugly hickies and trails of scratch marks that develop into fair sized welts farther down on Matt’s back. It hits him that he really was fucking Matt like he assumed Tom would like.

Tord feels like a douche. Probably because it is well justified. So he decides he may as well put a band aid on that issue.

“Would you like me to help you back to your room?” he says, keeping his tone even as he offers a hand to Matt. Matt takes it and smiles slightly.

“I would.”

Tord doesn’t comment on the walls of mirrors and pictures of Matt. It is, incredibly weird to be in a room full of the same familiar face staring back at him, but well, he has a giant robot under the house, so guess they all have their quirks.

Tord helps Matt out of his shirt and as he does so, even more bruises and hickies become apparent.

He opts to kiss those areas instead. He feels Matt’s arms come sliding over his shoulders, holding him closer. Matt is letting out breathy little pants as Tord unbuttons his pants and slides them off his hips. He then strips off his boxers and without much thought is two fingers deep into Matt before it hits him that he is, once again, rushing.

So he takes some time to kiss Matt and murmur some random thoughts he has had about how cute the other man looks. Really, he is a good looking guy, Tord was always just too proud or insecure or a mix of the two to admit how much Matt appealed to him.

He finds though, Matt makes him feel rather safe. He thinks the man under him really doesn’t have it in him to be the kind of poisonously cutting that he thrived on previously. So he focuses his attention on kissing and playing with Matt, enjoying the sounds he makes and the fact that there is no pressure or rush, no definitive goal in mind.

They go on like this for a while until Matt’s movements get jerkier and more desperate and finally he is pulling himself up and pressing him fully against Tord leveraging things until Tord is the one leaning against the bed and Matt is in control.

“I want to do the rest, I got this,” Matt says and flashes Tord a cocky smile. Tord watches in a sort of quiet awe as he guides him to his entrance and starts to ride him. He grasps at the pale legs spread apart before him, digging his nails into them from time to time, though not deep enough to leave anything but little pink half-moon crescents.

As much as a part of Tord wants to tear through things destructively, to mess up Matt’s pace and throw him down and go at him at his own, one look at the man on top of him riding himself into bliss, the gentle peace and the soft breathiness of his every inhale, Tord lets things be and just enjoys things.

When he feels his knot swelling and notes how Matt skirts around taking it, pushing down hard enough so it starts to nudge his entrance, then pulling up, doing so on repeat again and again until Tord is feeling himself half out of his mind with want to just buck up and settle the score once and for all. But then he sees the quiet determination and the way Matt keeps lifting himself and edging it a little more each time and he leaves things be.

Matt finally, with a bit of struggle and a few groans and what may have even been soft curses out of such a pretty mouth, manages to fit the knot in and sits a moment, trying to find his wits about himself. He leans himself forward and finds himself flush against Tord’s chest, listening to the upbeat tick of his heart.

“This is nice, honestly, nicer than I thought you had in you, good job,” Matt says through pants as he struggles to catch his breath.

Tord puts a warm hand on his back and rubs it gently.

“Romantic huh? I can do romantic,” Tord says slowly as he mulls over the thought of for once, not going at a breakneck pace, not pushing for want and desperation and the cheap sort of statements like “this is the best night of my life” or “I love you” or whatever other bland statement orgasm addled minds tend to utter after a good lay only to have the sincerity behind them evaporate with the hormones.

Maybe with patience and gentleness he can have something a bit closer to what he had been trying to force all this time with little to no fruit being born of his plentiful efforts.

Matt looks up at him with a playful look in his eyes, hands tucked under his chin as he smiled playfully up at Tord.

“You know, you are cute when you aren’t being a total horndog.”

“Yeah?” Tord says, quirking an eyebrow.

“Yeah. Bring that kind of you on a date and I wouldn’t mind doing this again,” Matt says with a soft smile that has Tord’s chest feeling a bit tight. He doesn’t really have it in him to hope yet, because his track record is so messy and dismal that hope is something that has to be earned back through his actions.

But he thinks it could be worth it. And that’s enough to try.


End file.
